


slow cinnamon summer

by hockeylaces



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-26 13:28:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7575757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hockeylaces/pseuds/hockeylaces
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>title is from jome — cinnamon</p><p>anyways i love murdering myself w/ sap</p>
            </blockquote>





	slow cinnamon summer

**Author's Note:**

> for [mo](http://pataters.tumblr.com/) ily

_waking when the white sunlight's out_

 

Geno's fingers felt nice against the nape of Sid's neck, there was sunlight leaking into the bedroom, it was pretty, and it painted the room. Everything was content. There was no noise except for the even, sleepy breathing of Geno. Sid glanced up through his eyelashes, he was pressed up against him with his forehead against his chest, but he wanted to get look at how calm Geno looked in the morning, before he was awake, what could he of been dreaming of? What made his brows do a little furrow? Why was he suddenly smiling—

 

"You like to watch?" his accusation came out in a guttural, groggy voice. It made Sid want to climb onto him and kiss him breathless, but also made him want to attempt to chirp back and punch him in the chest. But he was struck in total embarrassment.

 

"How do you even know I was watching? Your eyes weren't even open," Sid's voice came out a little snarky while he sat up, it's best if they started to get ready for the day, but long arms immediately brought him back down into bed.

 

"I _know_  you Sid." Geno murmured softly into his hair, his fingers played with the curls at his nape, "I know  _my_ Sid."

 

A blush crept onto his face, "the best at knowing me, hm?" he mumbled softly into his neck.

 

"The best."

 

_waiting through the days and nights out_

 

They were both eating take out on a Sunday night in the living room of Sid's place, they sat close in the thrum of the horrible Russian soap opera on the TV. Sid opened his mouth to say something about having no idea what was going on, and how he thought the sketchy side character was _obviously_ the husband's killer, but Geno quickly stopped him.

  
  
"No, no, watch." Geno nudge him with his elbow, he had a stupid smile on his face—until Sidney quickly lunged over him for the remote. "No!"

 

Sidney couldn't help but laugh while they fought and wrestled for the remote, tightly straddling Geno's lap with his grip tense around it, but it was slipping fast as he kept giggling. Both of their grasps on the remote went slack as they met eyes, they were both grinning, leaning into each other and bumped foreheads. Before Sid could let out another giggle Geno kissed him—they've kissed a lot of times, some slow and gentle, little chaste pecks, or rushed and needy. This was somewhere in that spectrum, there was definitely a strong want for something, there was definitely a huge bloom of happiness in Sid's chest. 

 

_your spell's pulling me under_

 

Geno can always make Sid get into a better mood, all he would have to do was place a hand on his shoulder and give a little squeeze, maybe say a little phrase in Russian and give him a kiss on his forehead. Or in this case they both got a little too carried away. 

 

"Can't have my Sid be sad all day," Geno considered, he practically made Sidney stay in bed with him this morning, something didn't feel right so of course it's in his instincts to do something about it.

 

"Geno I'm fine," he argued, trying to unwrap himself from long limbs but finally gave up with Geno squeezed him close.

 

"No, let me take care of you." And that was the end of their most shortest dispute, with a kiss Geno got Sid to melt back into him, he got him to start panting between long, heated and needy kisses, holding him close with a hand on his ass.

 

"Geno—" Sid whined while he began to rut against his thigh like a teenager, watching him stretch to grab the lube. 

 

 

He ended up on his back, legs spread and whimpering. Geno always loved his view, but adored the sounds Sid made whenever he would crook his three fingers against his prostate a little more.

 

"Geno," Sid gasped as he felt those long fingers press against his spot just right, his name was just a breath from his bitten red lips.

 

"I know, I know." Geno placed a kiss onto the inside of his thigh, "always know what you need." His voice was haughty while he withdrew his fingers, leaving him empty.

 

It took Geno a while to prep both of them, because Sid was such a fucking distraction. He wanted to focus on every detail of him, of how he arched into his ghosting touch, the flutter of his eyelash, the shiver of his body and the shake of his thighs.

 

But he did end up slowly easing his cock into him, Sid moaning at the slight burn of the stretch. Geno kept his hand underneath his thigh, keeping him spread open and vulnerable to him. He would pull all the way out to the tip before thrusting back in, earning a toe-curling moan from Sidney beneath him. His cheeks and chest were flushed, his cock leaked against his stomach and his hands  were behind his head, gripping at the pillow that was there.

 

Geno fucked into Sid earnestly, letting out low grunts and strings of Russian. Sid wasn't doing any better at being quiet, but Geno treasured his breathy "ah"s and the way he said his name over and over again before he was going to come.

 

And he did all over his stomach and chest with Geno fucking him through it, murmuring broken Russian he didn't understand, but cherished.

 

"Ya lyublyu tebya," Geno ended up murmuring out post-orgasm, his thumb tracing Sidney's cheekbone.

 

"I love you too."

 

 _it's a slow cinnamon summer_  

 

They're both on the couch as tangled limbs, with the summer's evening sun spilling into their living room. Geno noticed how it painted their skin, and how it made Sid's eyes lighten to a shade that made him absolutely wordless. There was the thrum of the TV, the sinking sun, his fingers playing with the ends of Sid's curls.

 

And he noticed how much he loved him. How much they loved eachother. Everything was content.


End file.
